Bread
by Madam'zelleGiry
Summary: Sometimes he wonders why he does all of this... just for a crust of bread. Sir Gwaine and Sir Elyan share a quiet moment in their cell. Gift!Fic for Rosawyn.


**Takes place during the series 4 finale.**

**Dedicated to the lovely Rosawyn, who convinced me that I needed to write something about Gwaine because he deserves more love than he received in canon. **

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He couldn't remember the last time that a beating had _hurt_ this much.

It wasn't that he wasn't used to such intense physical combat; Arthur made sure of that during their training sessions. It was more that he wasn't used to doing it on an empty stomach like this. Completely empty, no water, every bone in his body aching… Such treatment made him wonder why he had agreed to do this in the first place.

Then he remembered.

Gaius. Elyan. Alone in the cell, starving except for the few bites of food that he had managed to earn with his combat skills. Morgana was showing an obvious amount of _glee_ to see him fight and starve. He was a knight of Camelot, after all. Apparently that meant he was supposed to be immune to such weakness. Well, that was certainly news to him.

The same cycle repeated itself at least once a day. Be dragged out of the cell by the guards to be brought before Morgana herself. Fight some ruffian or thug, whatever she'd decided upon for that contest. Sometimes he had a weapon, but usually not. Win the fight and be rewarded with a crust of bread, occasionally one with a bit of meat or cheese on it. It had been five days.

Gaius was weakening by the hour; he refused to eat so that the two knights that shared his cell could partake in the meager rations. He said that Gwaine needed it more than he, an old man, so that he could keep up his strength for the fight.

But now, as Gwaine was being dragged back to his cell, he couldn't help but wonder what he was doing this for. The food wasn't enough for one person, let alone two or three, assuming Gaius took a little bit. Frankly, he was shocked that he'd managed to keep up the battle with Morgana this long. Albeit, he was a little smug about the fact that he'd been able to last so well.

_So this is why Arthur's so big on early morning training sessions…_

"Careful with that," he said, shaking his hair out of his face and grinning drunkenly at the guard who held his left arm. "Can't have me fighting with one arm. Although, I've always wanted to try…"

The guard looked supremely unimpressed and nodded for his companion to unlock the cell. The key rattled in the lock as it turned, and the hinges squealed open to reveal Gaius and Elyan, looking pensive.

"You might just get your wish, Sir Gwaine," said Morgana from behind, her face sour as she watched her men throw the knight into his cell.

The contest today had not quite gone as planned; Gwaine suspected that he was a better warrior than she had given him credit for. And it made him no end of pleased.

"I don't have to give you this," she said, holding up a piece of bread, no more than seven inches long. "Your show of sport was most disappointing today."

"Eh, you know me. I get bored with the same routine all the time. I just had to shake it up a bit." Gwaine wiped a trail of blood off his face from where his lip had split during the fight. "I wouldn't want my lady to become bored." His tongue slid across the words "my lady" with obvious contempt, although it was slightly masked by his grin at her fury.

"I expect you to play by my rules next time." Morgana tossed the hunk of bread into the cell and motioned for the door to be closed. Leaning against the bars and gripping them with her finger, she returned Gwaine's smile, not without an unspoken promise. "Kill my man, or you get nothing for your pains. I trust you'll be able to remember that much."

"I make no promises." Gwaine carefully sat himself up, although the smirk never left his face. "But I'll see what I can do."

"See that you do." Morgana folded her arms and was gone; the only presence left outside the cell was in the form of the guards that stood at the end of the hall, out of sight.

Away from Morgana and her men in the cell, Gwaine allowed himself to show the pain that he'd been hiding. Elyan was at his side, helping him to lean against the stone wall of the cell, carefully examining his body for injuries. Of which there were many. Too many.

"I think you should ask her to give you your shirt back," said Elyan, wincing at the purple and black bruises that dotted and caked his chest and arms. "You look better with it on."

Gwaine chuckled. "I don't think she will. She rather likes it better when she can see more of me."

"I think you have a broken rib. Maybe two." Elyan looked apologetic as he felt for the appropriate amount of damage.

"Must be why it hurt when they threw me in. Or when I laugh." Gwaine shrugged, his face contorted into a grimace of pain as Elyan continued to probe. "Careful there. Don't break any more of them."

"No such luck," smiled Elyan. "I don't have anything to patch you up with. You're just lucky you won't bleed to death. Not much in the way of open wounds."

"Yeah, well, the men are a lot bigger than I am. Fists work pretty well when you have size to your advantage." Gwaine sucked in his breath as Elyan seemed content to stop the search for injuries. "Maybe I'll get someone smaller next time and they can knife me."

The words were accompanied with a laugh, but Elyan could see the expression of pain underneath the sound. For a long moment, he wondered what was going on in his friend's mind. Gwaine was notorious for being carefree, a talker, and a loyal friend. All the knights knew that it would take a lot to break a man like Gwaine. He was just too spirited. But now… Elyan wondered if Morgana would be able to succeed in that. He'd never seen Gwaine like this. Even his jokes seemed hollow, false. _At least he's still trying to make jokes…_

"I'm sorry that you have to do this, Gwaine," he said quietly, helping his friend into a more comfortable position. "It's a horrible price to pay for such a tiny reward."

"Couldn't let you two starve," Gwaine murmured, his eyes now closed. "I can hold my own in this fight. I just need to last long enough for Arthur to reach us."

Elyan let his eyes drop to his hands, swallowing hard. "Do you really think that Arthur is coming for us?"

That was enough to force Gwaine's eyes open; he stared at Elyan as though he did not understand his words. "Of course he is. He would never leave Camelot to die under the hand of someone like Morgana. He's plotting right now. It's only been five days. He needs to make a plan, to gather what strength he can. But he'll come."

"I hope so." The words sounded false, even to him. He felt as though it was wrong to confide his fears to Gwaine, when his friend was obviously in bad shape. But Gaius was only semiconscious anymore… he was too weak and in too much pain from hunger to be able to talk.

He should have known that Gwaine would always be willing to help a friend. He pushed himself forward so that he could put a hand on Elyan's shoulder, looking him straight in the eye.

"Elyan. You know Arthur as well as I. We have fought under him many times. You know that he would give his own life to save us. He's coming." The fire going out in his eyes, another laugh crossed his face, this one sounding more genuine. "Besides. He misses me. He's probably bored stiff without me."

Elyan laughed in spite of himself. "If he's missing you, we have been in here longer than I thought."

"Can't go that long without a visit from his friendly, neighborhood knight of Camelot." Gwaine grinned, running a hand through his dark hair and pushing it out of his eyes. "And I know that he can't wait to see us."

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**Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed! Reviews are always welcome! **

**I'm considering writing a "sequel" of sorts, showing the reunion of the knights after the battle at the end of the series. If that's something you might be interested in reading, please let me know. :)**


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